


build me up, buttercup (don't break my heart)

by endlessdaydreaming



Category: Archie Comics, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Betty Cooper needs a hug, Dark Betty Cooper, F/M, Jughead Jones Needs a Hug, Jughead wouldn't know what love was even if it hit him with a hotdog, POV Jughead Jones, Protective Jughead Jones, bughead needs in depth background, dark!betty needs an explanation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 09:55:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10896915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endlessdaydreaming/pseuds/endlessdaydreaming
Summary: Betty had always liked fixing things -- cars, relationships, people -- and Jughead found the irony in how the one thing she couldn't fix was herself.OrSlightly AU pre-Riverdale drama where Jason is alive and Ronnie's been in the gang for a while and Archie never broke up with Jughead and ofc Jughead is beanie over combat boots in love with Betty but the poor boy doesn't realize cuz he doesn't know what love is, feat. Probably pretentious writing, in depth character profiling and building, angsty and emotional metaphors, teenage pining/drama/love, and irregular af updates





	build me up, buttercup (don't break my heart)

Betty had always liked fixing things -- cars, relationships, people -- and Jughead found the irony in how the one thing she couldn't fix was herself. He sees it in the way her smiles get increasingly forced throughout the months, or how her eyes shine a little bit dimmer each day. 

What can he say, being invisible really has its perks. He can stare at people all he wants and no one would care. Ergo, he notices a lot of things. 

Like how he notices Betty becoming an entirely different person without anyone noticing. Slowly, very slowly, a little bit each passing day, miniscule details over the years -- Betty Cooper's strings are stretched and Jughead isn't sure how long it will take before they snap. 

But why? What happened to Betty Cooper? She hadn't always been like this; once upon a time she was really a force to reckon with. She danced through their little Riverdale town in grease-stained over-alls with a melodic laugh and shining sky blue eyes. She was the kind of preppy that said hi to everyone she saw and smiled at strangers. She fought bullies and said what she thought and wore her heart on her sleeve, damn the consequences. 

But now, ever since that day, she is a shell of her old self: Smiling but not really, cheerful but not really, kind but not really. There is an edge to her laughter, like something had cut through her and left shards in her being. There is a shadow in her eyes; a wariness and cynicism that trails her gaze. She is closed-off, careful, afraid, and no one notices.

Except Jughead. 

He had always liked being the exception to the rule.

Jughead knows something happened to Betty that day, roughly a year ago; but what? 

"Jug, you okay man?" 

Jughead snaps out of his thoughts. Archie is staring at him like he's spouted a second head, but he waves it off with a shake of his head. "'Mfine, was just thinking." 

Archie looks like he wants to pry for more details, but decides against it and settles for letting it go for now. "Well, what do you think? Should I accept Cheryl's invitation?"

Jughead narrows his eyes in thought, piercing a piece of mystery lunch meat with his plastic fork. It's gone cold -- not that it was much warmer when he first got it -- but he sticks it in his mouth anyway and chews. He takes the time to consider Archie's dilemma, and his friend eats his own lunch and expectantly waits for a reply. 

He sees a flash of blonde hair again in the corner of his eye, the very thing that distracted him and caught his attention in the first place. He sneaks another look at Betty falling in line for lunch. She looks just mildly interested at whatever Veronica and Kevin are talking about, seemingly caught up in her own thoughts.

"Jug," Archie says. "You're doing it again." 

"What?" 

"Spacing out."

Jughead's eyes snap back to Archie's. "Sorry," he grins, except it's more of a smirk when Jughead does it, but Archie grins in return anyway so it's fine. "So Cheryl," he begins, setting his fork down and steepling his fingers together in mock seriousness. "I'm pretty sure she's the Anti-christ, Arch, but if that's your thing then I've never been one to judge, buddy. If it makes you feel like a god to tame the wildebeast, then by all means."

Archie scoffs at that. "Normally I wouldn't even have to think about it, but Jason asked me in her behalf this time and..." Archie trails off with a sigh.

"He's quarterback and you want to get on his good side," Jughead finishes for him.

Archie nods. "He's graduating soon and he gets to pick his replacement. I'm pretty sure Moose definitely wins against me in almost every possible criteria."

"Except maybe brains," Jughead supplies. "But then again, you'd be nothing without Betty, you cheater." 

"Hey," Archie laughs, throwing a ball of scrunched up tissue at Jughead. "I don't cheat. We do homework together."

Jughead just shoots him with a you-aren't-gonna-get-me-to-believe-that-buddy look.

The rest of their little gang pop up at the table then, with Betty and Veronica sitting to either side of Archie, while Kevin sits beside Jughead.

"Come on B, I can't be the Queen at Cheryl's party if you're not there to be my Princess," Veronica pleads. She sets his tray down and manouvers over Archie so she can see Betty. "And heaven knows someone needs to keep me from strangling Cheryl, especially after yesterday's drama."

At Jughead and Archie's blank looks, Kevin -- usefully astute as ever -- catches them up with the conversation. "Cheryl utilized Ronnie's little fumble at River Vixens practice yesterday to keep her from performing at tomorrow's pep rally, so Ronnie is plotting to upstage Cheryl at her own birthday party tonight. Betty refuses to go."

Archie frowns at that. "Why not, Betty?" 

Betty gives everyone a resigned little smile that sets Jughead on edge, just because it was so...not Betty. "I'm just not feeling up to it, Archie. I've got so much homework to do, and there's that pep rally tomorrow. I really can't afford a late night party." 

"We can leave early?" Archie offered.

"Been there done that, Archiekins," Veronica sighed. 

"I'll do our lab reports with you before going to the party?" Archied tried again.

Betty's lips quirked in amusement. "Don't you have to practice for your big special number?"

Archie glances at his watch. Seeing how late its gotten, he quickly shoves the last portions of his food into his mouth. "Crap, Josie's gonna kill me," he manages to blurt out in-between chews.

Veronica makes a disgusted expression at him. "Don't talk with your mouth full Archie, that's just barbaric." She starts to wrap up her sandwich primly. "This conversation isn't over Betty, I won't give up 'til I've convinced you."

Betty's playing with her food, pushing peas around her plate with her eyes glued to the table when she heaves a deep breath, so deep as if all the oxygen in the world can't fill the chasm that has suddenly fixated itself inside her. "Fine, i'll go." She gives Veronica that resigned smile of hers again, the one that says she's walking herself to her own grave.

Veronica squeals, getting up quickly to throw her arms around Betty. "We're gonna have so much fun being hotter than Cheryl! You need a breather anyway B, you'll thank me later." With one last loud smack on Betty's cheek, Veronica sashays away with Archie in tow, headed to the music room to practice their special number with Josie and the Pussycats for Cheryl's party.

"Well children," Kevin announces, standing up from his seat as well. "Daddy's got business to take care of."

"First off," Jughead deadpanned. "You are the last person in this table who'd be a 'daddy.' You're more like, extremely hot pet on a leash than daddy. Second, if you're going to make out with your boytoy in the boys' locker room, try not to traumatize the first years and get a room instead." 

Kevin throws him a gratuitously flirty wink before leaving the table, too. 

"You can leave too, you know," Jughead says aloud, although there's really possibly just one person to tell it to. He tries not to take it personally, it's just lunch anyway and the gang is together all the time, but there's something in the way everyone's got somewhere to do and somewhere to be that unsettles him; it's as if it was a foreshadowing of a future where everyone else is moving on with their lives except for Jughead, who is perpetually stuck in the here and now.

"I'm not leaving you alone, Juggie."

It's in the way Betty says it. Not pitying, or consoling -- just matter-of-factly, like doing otherwise wasn't even an option and it's stupid to even suggest it. 

"Besides," she continues. "I could really use some company." She looks at him then, all big blue doe eyes and resigned smile.

"I'm not really much of good company, unless you're a fan of sarcasm and dark humor," Jughead says carefully, worried that she'd take it as him not wanting to spend time with her. It isn't that, really -- it's in how Jughead doesn't really know what to do with this new Betty now, who refuses to be apalled at his morbid humor and somehow now agrees with his cynic view of the world. He's worried he might be tempted to pry where he shouldn't, and then -- then he might lose her for good. 

"Well I'm Miss sunshine and rainbows, aren't I?" She deadpans, throwing Jughead completely off guard. He doesn't know how to react to that purely sarcastic remark rolling right off of Betty's tongue like it was as natural as her ponytail. 

"Did you just make a sarcastic remark, Cooper?"

Betty quirks an amused lip at him. "Keep up, Jones."

Jughead barks a disbelieving laugh. "If I knew you were this much fun I wouldn't have stuck around Archie so much," he jokes.

Betty shrugs at that, making her ponytail bounce. "A girl's gotta have some secrets, right?"

There is a shift in the atmosphere between them, a subtle undertone that reeks of sadness. Sadness makes Jughead uncomfortable; nevermind that it practically lives in his skin, he just never knows what to say when he recognizes himself in other people, just like he never expects anyone to say the right thing to him either. 

"We haven't really hung out as much," he offers, like an olive branch to a wounded animal. "With how busy you normally are." 

"I'm sorry," Betty replies softly, sincerely, and Jughead kind of wants to punch himself. 

"I'm not saying it's your fault," he amends quickly. "I just meant that...I missed you." 

And he did. He really did. They used to be close -- though they never had what Betty and Archie had, they were best friends in their own way. But then Betty had realized she had feelings for Archie, Archie had -- after a difficult few days -- turned her down, and Jughead had respected Betty and been there for Archie when she wanted space and he needed consoling, respectively. Although eventually the three of them were friends again, it was never the same. 

Then that day one year ago happened, and it was Betty's turn to never be the same again.

Betty's hand is on top of his now, squeezing gently. "I missed you too, Juggie." Then, as if battling with herself first on whether or not she should say something else, she decides against it and withdraws her hand.

Jughead still feels the ghost of her warming his skin. 

He tries to ignore the goosebumps crawling up his fingers.

He clenches his hand, and tries not to think of the space in between his and her fingers.

"You've changed, Betty Cooper," he finally says after a heavy silence had settled upon them for a while. 

She immediately stiffens, eyes wide and fingers clenched in defense of herself. "People change."

Jughead doesn't really do the whole smiling thing, so he does it with his eyes. "I like it." 

Betty blinks in surprise, but recovers quickly enough with a smile. "I like you too, Juggie."

It's a real kind of smile.

Jughead somehow forgot that although he never expects people to say the right thing, Betty had always managed to say all the right things. 

He was slightly a little bit in over his head -- he just didn't know it quite yet. 

He's also smiling, with his mouth this time, but he doesn't notice. 

Betty Cooper seems to take up most of his attention these days, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know how this is, because it's my first time in this fandom and i need to know if this is worth continuing; not gonna lie, this isn't completely mapped out in my head but I have a general direction of where it's going. All i can say is, there's a lot more angst (and jughead staring at love in the face but still not seeing it) where that came from. 
> 
> Also this is unbeta-ed and I just typed this on my phone, so longer chapters can be expected in the future (i just wanted to test this out first), and apologies for any errors.


End file.
